


Missing Time

by Miri1984



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Spoilers, prologue for something that might become longer, rating may also change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 04:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19881352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: I'm assuming we're going to get a big info dump on what happened with Zolf and Wilde in the next episode. And guess what, I'm probably going to write fic about it because that's the way I roll. So this is a little prologue for the fic-in-potentia that I can't wait to start but can't start because I don't have any information yet.





	Missing Time

Oscar receives communication from Curie every few weeks, and none of it is ever good, but this particular piece of news sits in his stomach like lead. He sets the sending stone back on his desk and debates with himself for nearly ten minutes, before heading to the inn.

Zolf’s room is on the second floor, and Oscar gently knocks on the wood paneling.

Zolf slides the door open. 

“Walk with me,” Oscar says, and Zolf tilts his head.

“Do I need to be armed?”

Oscar considers it a second, then shakes his head. They’re not going to leave the village, he just wants to make sure what he’s going to tell Zolf isn’t overheard. Zolf turns and tosses the book he’d been holding onto his bed. “All right then,” he says, and follows Oscar back outside.

It’s raining again, of course, and Oscar pulls the rim of his hat down to protect his face from the worst of it. Zolf flips up the hood of his dusty old coat. They walk through puddles and muck towards the edge of the town.

“So what is it?” Zolf asks. “I’m assuming nothing good.”

“Curie contacted me,” Oscar says, grimly. “Hamid and Azu have turned up back in Cairo.”

Zolf doesn’t stop walking, but Oscar hears a sharp intake of breath. 

“Infected,” Zolf says, flatly. 

“Not according to Curie,” and Oscar can’t stop the disdain from creeping into his voice. There is a reason there have been so many deaths across the old Harlequin networks. They are too sentimental, too hopeful, and it’s cost them far too much.

“Just Hamid?”

“And Azu, and the hostages that were originally taken. It’s very convenient and almost believable.”

“They’re going to want to come to you,” Zolf says. 

“That’s what Curie says. Tomorrow."

“I’ll prep the cell.” He turns to go back to the inn, and Oscar reaches out, takes his arm. Zolf stops without turning his head, tension evident across his shoulders.

They’ve known each other long enough to read body language. They know each other as well as anyone can know anyone these days, but people they’ve both considered dead for longer than either of them ever knew them still lie like unspoken secrets between them. A fixed point around which all of this seems to swivel.

Oscar knows how to sleep now, but  _ gods _ . He is still so very tired.

“Is this going to be a problem? Zolf?” he asks.

Zolf looks up at him, and Oscar pretends the moisture he can see in his eyes is just the rain. “It’s definitely  _ just  _ Hamid?” 

Oscar feels a pang of grief, sharp and intense and anger inducing. He tells himself it’s empathy, for Zolf, and not that he himself hasn’t quite gotten beyond hope the way he’d assumed.

“Hamid. And Azu.”

Zolf nods to himself, thin lipped. “As I said, I’ll prep the cell. When did you last sleep?”

Oscar gives him a half smile and a one shouldered shrug. “When did you?”

Zolf swallows. “I’m just sayin, Hamid snores so you’ll want to get some tonight. Before they get here.”

Oscar lets out a breath through his nose. “Fine,” he says. “So long as you do the same.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm assuming we're going to get a big info dump on what happened with Zolf and Wilde in the next episode. And guess what, I'm probably going to write fic about it because that's the way I roll. So this is a little prologue for the fic-in-potentia that I can't wait to start but can't start because I don't have any information yet.


End file.
